How to Escape an Assassin

6: Social Life Pt. 2

We were mere centimeters apart. My senses were being attacked by his overpowering woodsy cologne. It was manly and enticing. Towering over me, he studied me with a pair of hooded, jet-black eyes that held a fiery passion and disdain. I immediately looked away, unable to handle his intensity.

"Why are you here," Tristan questioned, but it sounded more like a statement. It was my first time hearing his low, gravelly voice. It was extremely attractive.

"Because I was invited," I answered nervously. He intimidated me on a level that I never experienced before.

Displeased with my answer, his scowl intensified. "Why did you agree to come here?" He interrogated, his jaw clenching.

I didn't understand why he was so upset. "Even though I just met you guys, we are all grieving and going through tragedy. I want to—wanted us to be able to support each other and go through these hardships together."

"You're naïve," he said coldly. He broke our gaze and pushed past me to walk down the hall.

"Milan," Felix slurred as he exited the theater. "Come play with us." He grabbed my arm roughly. Mirabai drunkenly dangled over his back.

"Get off of me," I hissed, snatching away from him and walking faster in the direction that Tristan was headed.

We ended up in the kitchen. The bright, airy space featured polished white marble countertops and floors. There was a large kitchen island with metal bar stools. Tristan took a bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet and sat at a stool.

Tristan was acting like I didn't exist, and Felix was trying to persuade me into a threesome. I was exhausted and more than ready for this train-wreck of a night to come to an end.

"Felix, take me upstairs," Mirabai whined to Felix seductively.

"Convince your friend to join us," Felix said back, cupping Mirabai's face in his hand.

"But she's not into that type of stuff," Mirabai pouted.

I was furious that this conversation was even happening. I was currently sitting cross-legged against the wall, with my wild mane of hair covering my face and my hands tugging at the roots in frustration.

Felix scoffed. "Whatever. Ghost, you can borrow little Milan here for the night if you want. Just remember to return her to me when you're done, yeah?"

Excuse me?

"I'm not interested. She's not my type," Tristan responded coolly. His rejection stung.

"That's fine, I'll keep her," Felix told him.

I scoffed, shocked that Felix was openly disrespecting me like this. Although I just met him, I was extremely disappointed in his shameless character. Sober or drunk, there was no excuse.

"You're not keeping me, because I'm no one's property and I was never yours in the first place." I said angrily.

"Loosen up already," Felix drawled to me, grabbing me by the arms and heaving me forcefully up to my feet.

"Get off of me," I hissed, twisting away as Felix jerked me forward. My eyes fell on Tristan, still sitting at the kitchen island a few feet away. He watched me with a dangerous stillness. His overall demeanor was calm, but there was a wildfire of violent anger blazing in his eyes.

Tristan was clutching the bottle of whiskey with so much pressure that his knuckles turned ivory white and the veins were popping out. Meanwhile, I was fighting Felix off as he tried to force a kiss on me.

Tristan suddenly smashed the whiskey bottle on the counter in his rage. He must be fed up at his brother's indecency as well, I thought.

Felix instantly broke away from me and spun around to see what happened. His face turned tomato red as his frustration exploded. "What the actual hell, Ghost?"